


let lips do what hands do

by ineachandeveryway



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 15:06:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8718538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineachandeveryway/pseuds/ineachandeveryway
Summary: Fear becomes a stranger, ambition a welcome guest. And what originally occurred once becomes twice, and thrice, and every number after.—or, Yuuri/Victor + kissing drabbles.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Episode Nine, as you readers likely already know, was a sublime and unreal experience. All I could think about for three hours of my life was Yuuri and Victor cuddling and kissing. This is the result. Hope you enjoy. :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Just as the Big Bang is the universe's origin point, the boy standing before me might be my own." 
> 
> —Space Patrol Luluco, Episode 2

Dining on the lips of a legacy is a little like ice skating. There is a lingering fear of breakage—a split-second, childlike fear of “after” that unfurls and unfurls like blades slicing circles after an axel or salchow. A breathtaking outcome is never guaranteed on the rink, but what wonders do manifest themselves on the ice harbor incentive beyond the ordinary imagination.

Fear becomes a stranger, ambition a welcome guest. And what originally occurred once becomes twice, and thrice, and every number after.

_Again,_ Yuuri thinks, eyes closed, lips parted. The pink of Victor’s tongue etches itself into his soul—

_[Kiss me again.]_

—answers here, on the teardrop of his lip and the pouty seam, under his teeth to the pink of his mouth. A sound echoes in his ears, inhuman and godly, and there exists in his thought one word: open, open, open.

“Yuuri—” Victor forces out a breath, slants his head and slides like their lips were meant to meet on the rink, one man’s blade to another man’s ice. There is no breakage here to be fearful of, only an ambitious desire to stoke with each parting of lips, dip after dip of one mouth to the other.

Yuuri dissolves into long-lost memory, remembers a time when he knew no more than to tremble and to try, and how a man with snowlove laced into his eyes somehow took him by the shoulders. Celestiano Cialdini had never been a man to doubt the playing ground, but Yuuri realizes he could only have understood the Italian’s famous once-words after an encounter like this.

_The ice will always be there to kiss your blade on the rink._

The world becomes weightless for a long and limitless moment, but where Yuuri’s legs fall back and bend against the wall, Victor’s haphazardly crash and follow. His fingers cut rippling paths through raven strands and finally settle on the hairline, thumbs flush with the scarlet tinge that blooms across Yuuri’s neck.

_It might cut or it might bend, but it will never break._

There can’t be one word to describe what this feels like. It is simultaneously flying on the rink for the first time and soaring somewhere higher where Lust like this is made, and Yuuri doesn’t think he ever wants to let go. Not when every gasp that rises in his throat melts on Victor’s tongue and warms him to the core.

_Trust the ice to meet you halfway, to go the extra mile when it keeps you on your feet._

“Stay,” comes the call, from Victor’s mouth into his. Yuuri lets his lips fall away and takes a breath, stares soft at the Arctic blue of his Russian’s eyes. His nose skims a tender line across Victor’s cheek, writes love into the freckles that one can only see up close.

Falling was never a part of the equation, he realizes. Theirs was a love made for twin star signs and amorous pillars, etched deep into their shoulders by the way of Greek Fate. From their first moment in Sochi, there were only ever higher places to reach and to go.

“Idiot,” he retorts, breathless, “You’re stuck with me.”

Victor laughs. “No,” he answers, and he takes Yuuri by the cheek, “we’re stuck with _each other.”_

And this is the only limit. 

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment, please!


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